Forced to orgasm

So much is written about denial. Not being allowed to come is a major part of many D/s dynamics. The need that exists within in the person being denied, and being edged and then denied again. Being forced to orgasm several or even many times is quite something too. Both are about power and control. Of one person over another. This is often what lies at the heart of a Dominance and submission dynamic.


Imagine you are that woman secured to the St Andrew’s cross. The leather cuffs are each lined with soft fabric, and these encase your wrists and ankles. You are attached to the cross by hooks that have been clipped onto the cuffs at each point. Your nipples have been clamped, as has your clitoris. The three are joined by a chain that jangles across your tummy. You have a butt plug in your arse and a dildo inserted into your cunt.

Then imagine you don’t actually know where your tormentor is or how long you have been secured like this. You are blindfolded and have a raunchy madonna track emanating from headphones.

Your senses are confused. On the one hand you are anxious, after all you don’t know what is coming next. But damn it, you are horny. Especially when the dildo starts to move, up and down, in and out of your wet cunt. The sense of social isolation feels weird, you call out, but no one speaks. Instead the music changes, it’s something slower, more sensual. Hold, by Vera. How apt you think. You let the music wrap itself around you after all this is your lover now. The rhythm of the dildo continues, tracing a steady path.


Suddenly it starts. The unmistakable sound of the wand. Buzzing loudly, just detectable over the music. He is there now, in front of you and even though you can’t see him, or feel him yet. You know it.

At first this is just the feeling you need. Direct stimulation on your clitoris that you have needed all along. The pressure from your full vagina and arse has been building and now you feel release just around the corner. You press your cunt onto the bulb of the wand. All the time the dildo slides in and out, but now it feels less tight, more wet. That’s because of the fluid you are producing from inside course. The orgasm rises from deep inside and knowing you’ve agreed that you don’t need to ask for permission that need fills every space. Crying out to the unseen man, “Thank you Sir” you say. He moves the wand away and you wait to be released from your restraints.

But, that isn’t what this sadist is planning. Far from it.

He begins to stroke you. Neck, shoulders, arms, tummy and then around the shaved mound. Finally he strokes your swollen clit and at the same time releases one of the nipple clamps and then sucks hard, giving some warmth and relief. “Come” He says and you just do. Its a surprise because it isn’t what you expected to happen.

Forced to orgasm multiple times

He removes the other two clamps and caresses his property gently then more roughly. Biting your nipples one after the other, while rubbing your sore clit.

The buzzing starts again, just as the music changes. Senses are now at the very edge of pleasure and pain. Again your clit responds, even though you would rather it didn’t. You know your body wants and needs this while at the same time you wish you could run away. The sadist takes 3 more orgasms from that sensitive and painful body, before the dildo stops moving. Gradually and gently he removes the restraints and then carries you over to the nearby bed.

Without the blindfold you can now look him in the eye. He is grinning as he crouches over you, legs astride, your still twitching body. You kiss deeply and passionately.

“My slut” he says. “My wanton beautiful slut” I expect you’ve had enough for now, that you have no need for cock. Your mind screams to over rule your sore and tired body. “Please Sir, yes I do. I need your cock inside my slutty body” He moves your hand to feel his dick, already oozing with pre-cum. Slowly he pushes inside you and begins to thrust in and out. Suddenly you don’t feel as if you have orgasmed at all today. The pressure begins to build, this time around the safety of your owner, the man with the power and control. Once again you are forced to orgasm. You have no control.

G is for……….

Glass dildo and Good girl. The photo below is of my bottom, into which Master has inserted a glass dildo. There is something lovely about that object as it is pushed into your body. It is cool, it is smooth, it is hard but not in the way plastic or rubber is hard. It is also pretty, though you can’t see it’s beauty from this photo. The shaft of the dildo has rings of pink, I think (I don’t have it here so I can’t check). As you can see it has a ring of glass at the end which makes it easy to hold for withdrawal. The morning of the glass dildo was a morning of orgasms and of double penetration. A lot of our sex and play takes place in the mornings, it is a time when we are emerging from sleep and are feeling pretty sexy. The play times are less frequent than the sexy times, and that makes them special. The glass dildo is pretty special too.

Until about 2 years ago, I hadn’t been called a girl, much less a good girl for a very long time. When Master told me I was girl, his girl, this girl I found it hard to get my head around. But since I am meant to refer to myself as this girl all of the time, and much of the time I remember to do so, the words now trip off of my tongue more easily.

I love nothing more these days than to be told I am a good girl, that I have done well and pleased him. Sometimes I do forget who I am, and I do say too much, I do buy into his argumentative nature, I do allow myself to get dragged in and to argue back, even when I know I will get annoyed and start to question my very place as his slave. This statement is written for and to Master, since this happened last night and last week and the week before. I say it because I know what is happening and I can stop it. I say it because I truly am his slave, his good girl and I am not going to allow discussions on topics we will never agree on and which aren’t even important to us, to get in the way of that.

SCC Writing prompt #164

The thing that always pulls me back into the submissive mindset is when Master refers to me as girl, rather than saying for example ‘you’ or using my given name (though to be honest he doesn’t often do that). I am always girl, or this girl, in bed and during a scene; it is my slave name. There are plenty of other names I am called – slut, bitch, cunt; but always girl. If Master reminds me that I should be referring to myself as ‘this girl’, well then that is enough to stop me dead in my tracks and to comply with his wishes. I have to admit I find it interesting that this is the case since I know well I am a woman, a middle aged woman, but to him I am girl; this girl. Of course if he should refer to me as ‘good girl’, well then I am in my element. A swooning submissive slave girl.

The collar is my real world trigger. It is made of titanium and so is not as heavy as a collar made of steel. There are times, whole hours worth of time, when I forget I have it on. I might catch sight of myself in the mirror and there it is plain as day. A sign of slavery, ownership; submission. Sometimes I wonder why the collar of my dress / shirt feels so heavy, and realise it is the collar. Then there are the times I wake with the collar in an odd position and think about the fact I am his slave. After 4 months or so of wearing the collar I can truly say that it continues to add to my feelings of submission. I love wearing it and love the fact that he and I know what it means and also that there are people out there who also know. I also like the fact that 99% of the people who encounter me during my daily life have no idea, most don’t even notice more than some chunky jewellery.

My go to remedy every time would be the butt plug. There is something about the cool metal slipping into the space where you feel nothing should probably be placed. The pressure that you need to apply to get it to ease past the tightness of the anal sphincter and the feeling as it pops into place. Then the feeling of fullness and the effect it seems to have on my general wellbeing. The way it relaxes me and helps me think about who and what I am. Plus, yes, the way it reminds me of what else finds its way into that very space. Master knows the effect the plug has on me, and will instruct me to insert it when he feels I am getting just that little bit bratty, anxious or both.

Happy slave, exhausted Master

This morning this girl awoke quite early. Master opened His eyes briefly and this girl asked Him if He was still tired.

“Exhausted” He exclaimed
“Why?” this girl asked
“That mammoth fuck” was His reply, along with the fact He has had something of a stomach bug this last week.

But, yes that fuck was mammoth. In fact it was in three parts.

On Friday night this girl cooked dinner and afterwards we sat at the table chatting and listening to some music. Master got up for the table, went to His bag and returned with a leather harness. This girl stripped off and Master framed Her breasts between the straps, tightening the buckles at her back and front, and tying the collar. He took some photos, which no doubt will appear somewhere at some point. We moved into the living room and this girl spent some time kneeling on the floor sucking His cock. Master likes to look at and feel His property, to get her back into the right frame of mind. This was especially the case given that this girl had managed to get herself into a stressed state the previous evening.

Later in bed, Master took possession of His girl, claiming her body and taking a number of orgasms from her.

In the morning shortly after waking, this girl was instructed to suck His cock and then to get on top of Him and ride. He asked this girl if she wanted to cum, which of course she did.  He started the count at 20! That man knows how to tease a girl, one who is currently riding His cock. And especially when at 8 He began to stroke her clit and one nipple. Fit to explode she just about managed to hold on till He reached 0. She was rewarded shortly afterwards though when this girl was allowed to lick her juices from Him and to receive her prize.

There was of course much more to the whole thing than that. For a start there were lots and lots of orgasms which always impairs the memory.

This morning there was more cock worship, more riding Master and more orgasms. There was also time spent discussing our relationship and the ways in which Master has trained this girl and the ways in which she is developing into the slave He wants. 
This afternoon Master measured this girl’s neck………..

Being His girl

If anyone had told me 9 months ago that I would again be anyone’s girl I would have laughed in their faces. Me, a 50 something year old woman, someone’s girl?

But now, not only do I like being His girl, but I love the fact that is what He calls me all of the time. What is more, I love to be in a place where where we are anonymous and where I can call Him Master, even in a public place.

The power and control He has over me, His girl is often subtle. So much so, that no one else can tell it is there. But right now, it is ever present, even as now from a thousand miles away.

Last night during a text chat on messenger, He told me how pleased He was at the way I have coped with this weekend away with my mum. When He told me I was a good girl, I swelled with pride. I often feel I am unworthy of such praise, but am learning that when He says such a thing He means it. We moved on to talking about a planned night out I have with a friend later in the week. I expressed that I thought  I should cancel as I will probably be tired. He told me that he felt I should go, that I need such an outlet. He feels I need to see people and do things outside of my relationship with Him. Of course He is right and while He wasn’t saying I must go, the implication was just that.

That conversation had me thinking about what I have given up to Him – willingly I might add. I still make decisions, still go about my life in the same way. But at last I have someone who I am happy to have the last word. That is a big thing for me – I have a reputation for always wanting to have that final word. For wanting to be in charge, wanting to make the decisions in life. But not only do they not know the real me, but actually I am only just discovering who that me is.

This weekend it will be 9 months since our first meeting. It has been an eventful time, one of personal discovery for us both.

But while looking back is something we all like to do, to relieve the good times and avoid a repeat of the bad, looking forward is even better.

So, I look forward to being His girl into the future. That thought makes me feel very good indeed.

Master’s good girl – Dirty weekend 1

Three nights and almost four days together, what a treat. Time to cover the full range of what you might expect to happen within an M/s relationship. Enough time for a girl to be described as and marked as “good girl”.

If anyone had told me a year ago, that being described in that way would make my juices flow and make me go weak at the knees, I would have laughed in their face.

But this weekend Master marked his girl as such, and what is more, she is seriously contemplating a tattoo above her pubic line, saying just that.

In the last two sentences I flipped from first to third person – this was a theme for me this weekend.  Increasingly though, I refer to myself as girl or this girl and to Master in the way He likes.

What is great about a great weekend away with a wonderful Man, doing lots of great things (kinky, vanilla or whatever), is that it can give plenty of blog material. I have that for this week.

I (this girl) has been Master’s good girl this weekend. What is more, I (she) has lots to share. Watch this space.